“A Country for Everyone”: The Al Jawabra Family Embraces Life in America
“After I graduate, I want to go to school to become a pharmacist,” said 18-year-old Alaa Al Jawabra. “I love math and science.” Alaa began her senior year at Grace Davis High School in Modesto just two weeks ago, but she already has her sights focused on the future. “I plan to go to the CSU (California State University).”
Alaa and her family arrived in Modesto, an agrarian city in California, just under a year ago with assistance from the resettlement agency World Relief, based in Baltimore, MD with an office in Modesto. In that short time, the family of five has become completely self-sufficient, which indicates a successful resettlement, according to their caseworker, Sarah Williams. “Less than half of refugees in the world are able to be resettled in a new country,” said Williams. “Knowing this, the Al Jawabras have taken full advantage of the opportunity that has been offered to them.”
In February of 2013, while visiting relatives in Jordan, a rocket destroyed their house and Mr. Al Jawabra’s recording studio, where he worked as a sound engineer in Syria. Although grateful for their safety, they lost their home and livelihood in one blast. With nothing left in Syria, the family remained in Jordan for two years awaiting approval for resettlement in the United States. After disembarking the plane in Los Angeles, Aala recalled thinking, “This looks like Syria before the war!” “Before we moved here, I already loved America for letting us come to the country,” she said. “I was more excited than afraid. This is a country for everyone.”
As signified by this classroom map that illustrates its students’ manifold journeys to America, Modesto has become a hub of refugee resettlement. Walking around Davis High School during the lunch period on the second Monday of classes, the halls were filled with tidbits of Spanish, Arabic and Farsi. Before coming to the States, Alaa said she and her siblings barely knew the letters and numbers of the English alphabet. But in just under a year, with the help of the Modesto Language Institute, the girls have become confident English speakers. Hala, 7, won an achievement award in her first-grade class last year, and Alaa secured a 4.0 GPA. Now, Alaa is enrolled in almost entirely mainstream courses. “English was so hard,” she said. “Now it’s much easier because we learned so much in school.”
Alaa’s sixteen-year-old sister, Noor, ate lunch in the courtyard with her group of friends, some of whom wore headscarves and other who did not. They switched off between speaking Arabic and English. Alaa spent the lunch period in a classroom. “I have friends from Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan and Mexico,” she said, motioning at the diverse group of young women at her table. The girls were helping each other with a biology worksheet over pita and hummus.
Language is one of the greatest barriers refugees face in transitioning to America, explained Lindsey Bird, Alaa and Noor’s former geography teacher at Davis High School and the coordinator of the Modesto Language Institute. Instead of following the standard high school student’s curriculum, the Language Institute places recent refugees and immigrants in language-intensive courses. As their skills progress, they accelerate into the mainstream curriculum.
The Institute began just seven years ago, and already Bird has observed a difference in her students. “When you get your high school teaching credential, you don’t think you’ll be teaching phonics,” she said. “But what this program does is give them a foundation.” Across the board, Bird has witnessed a massive impact on girls like Noor and Alaa, who giggles with a classmate during her Foundations of Literacy class. “What we’ve seen cross-culturally is an innate desire for education among the girls,” she said. “If anything, it’s hard to contain their enthusiasm.”
When the day was over, Noor and Alaa’s father, Abdullhamid, sat in the minivan brigade of parents waiting to pick up their students. The ride back to their condo consisted of a steady soundtrack of American 1980s light rock. While Alaa set the table for dinner, her siblings — Aya, 11, Hala, 7, and the youngest of the family Ali, 4 — played a game of Old Maid at the kitchen table. “I’m going to be a teacher,” said second-grader Hala, while sixth-grader Aya said she plans to study medicine.
Abdullhamid sat outside on their patio listening to the tunes of American rock legends of the 80s, considering his children splayed out on the couches as they discussed their school goals. “Restaurants are the jobs Syrians take here,” he said, as “Wave of Change” by Scorpion pulsated through his phone’s speaker. He dreams of finding a job in a recording studio, like the one he owned in Syria, but knows that such work is hard to come by in Modesto, especially for a man who doesn’t speak English fluently.
Abdullhamid has tasked himself with mastering English by attending four-hour classes, five days a week. According to Williams, his English has become so strong in such a short amount of time that he sometimes translates for newly arrived refugees. “Without English fluency, it’s hard to get a job, to navigate bureaucratic systems, to navigate the bus,” she said. “Knowing this, the Al Jawabras now help other families with their transitions.”
It’s hard to fathom the tragedies the family has experienced when, after dinner, they snuggled up on the couch to watch TV and peruse Facebook, like a typical American family on a weeknight. Hala even performed her rendition of “Let It Go” from Frozen. Glancing at her daughter’s eyes glazed to the computer screen, Nadin joked, “Alaa wants to study pharmacy, Noor wants to study Facebook!”
In spite of the challenges the family faced upon coming to America — almost no knowledge of English, limited employment opportunities, homesickness — they possess a fierce awareness of how differently their story could have ended. Abdullhamid’s brother and family planned to join the Al Jawabras in the States. While the family was traveling from Syria to Jordan in an overcrowded capsule, their boat capsized at sea. The entire family drowned, with the exception of Abdullhamid’s seven-year-old niece.
After dinner, the girls dropped their backpacks, and Noor, like any sixteen-year-old girl, slunk straight to her room and shut the door. Alaa sat down beside Aya on the couch to help her decode a tricky word problem for a math assignment, translating the English while Aya computed.
Just one year ago, the girls barely knew their ABCs, and today, they not only speak fluently, but are writing their own stories. Now that she has the English vocabulary and confidence to do so, Alaa is adamant about sharing one story in particular: her family’s. “I want people to see what it’s really like to be a refugee,” she said, looking up from Aya’s assignment. “I would like Americans to know that refugees are not bad. We came here to build our future and get a job. If you have any questions, ask me, I’ll explain.”
ABOUT THIS CAMPAIGN FROM THE AD COUNCIL
There are nearly 20 million refugees worldwide. In 2016, the United Sates will admit 85,000 refugees for permanent resettlement, including 10,000 Syrians. A major resettlement priority is to reunite families; in the last 10 years, 60% of all refugees admitted into the U.S. have been women and children. Those who are admitted have passed through multiple levels of rigorous screening and security clearance, from agencies abroad and in the U.S. The reality behind the numbers: The U.S. offers resettlement to refugees who are among the most vulnerable, such as victims of torture or those caught in the crossfire of civil war. They are frontline victims of war, political persecution and terrorism. They have not just been through tragedy, they have been through hell. Those who have resettled in the U.S. have proven to be hardworking and productive residents who embrace America, and in turn hope to have America embrace them. Campaign Objective: Encourage Americans to be more welcoming and accepting of refugees who were recently relocated to the U.S. by dispelling myths and misperceptions, and connecting them with local resources to assist refugees in their communities. Refugees are no different from us. Learn more at EmbraceRefugees.org.
This post originally appeared on ViewFind.
By James Tensuan and Michelle Robertson.
